


And More, and More

by ThreeKnivesInAWineGlass



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Angst, Background Kim Mingyu/Wen Jun Hui | Jun, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-19 06:03:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19969228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeKnivesInAWineGlass/pseuds/ThreeKnivesInAWineGlass
Summary: Sitting up, Hansol looks out the back window of the car and sees the checkpoint, sees the skyscrapers, and he sees them all fading as Mingyu no doubt speeds them away as fast as possible.





	And More, and More

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The characters I write about are inferred from public personas but should not be taken as accurate portrayals of their real world counterparts. Some fans have a hard time separating fantasy and reality, so before you read my story, I implore you to recognize these as characters, not celebrities. Please don’t project what you read in stories onto real people. Please respect real people.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy my fic.

Where Mingyu got a car, Hansol has no idea, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to question it at three in the morning. Not to mention, he didn’t have time to, not with Junhui shaking him awake in an almost violent manner, his eyes wide, a backpack slung over his shoulder, and a way too fancy briefcase clutched in his other hand as he urged Hansol to get up and pack everything he valued.

Hansol wants to question where the car came from now, almost an hour later, but the tension between Mingyu and Junhui is palpable and tells Hansol not to ask, tells him that however the vehicle came into their possession, it wasn’t by legal means. He expects the same is true of the briefcase, which Junhui stashed in the back of the car.

Thoughts swirl in Hansol’s head at what might be encased in the hard leather, or whatever it is that briefcases are made of - Hansol’s never really had reason to know. Is it diamonds? Gold? Fine jewelry? Cash? Junhui’s hands were shaking when he stuffed it under the rest of their bags, his fingers twitching like he didn’t want to release his hold on it, so it must be important, or valuable, at least.

If it is something expensive, it’s definitely stolen, and that reality makes Hansol feel nervous. He figured that Mingyu stole the car, there’s no other explanation, but Junhui’s the only one out of the three of them who has access to the kinds of places that people take briefcases to, so if it’s stolen then he’s the one who took it.

Stealing a car is one thing; if Mingyu gets caught for this, he’d be gone for a few years and Hansol and Junhui would get by, keep his room clean and waiting for him. Stealing from the upper circles though, that’s signing your death warrant, at best. If Junhui gets caught, no matter what actually  _ is _ in the briefcase - well, Hansol doesn’t know what he and Mingyu would do. He really doesn’t know what Mingyu would do….

One of Junhui’s hands is curled against Mingyu’s leg, fingers gripping his knee maybe tighter than they did with the briefcase, while the other is locked with the hand that Mingyu’s spared from the wheel. The position is awkward, Mingyu’s arm held in a way that can’t be comfortable, but neither of them seem to care. Junhui especially doesn’t, dragging their joined hands in front of himself, pressing the back of Mingyu’s into his chest like he’s trying to jumpstart his heart.

Hansol wants answers but he knows now isn’t the time to get them, assuming they even exist at all. It’s very likely that if he were to ask where they were going, neither Mingyu or Junhui would be able to tell him, so Hansol doesn’t ask. Instead he draws his legs up, hides behind his knees, and closes his eyes.

Wherever they are going, Hansol hopes they get there in one piece. All three of them. He doesn’t want to lose Mingyu or Junhui, and heaven forbid he lost them both.

Wherever they’re going, Hansol hopes it’s better than where they’ve been. Mingyu could do so much more than fix cars, Hansol knows he could, if he had the opportunity. And Junhui- If things were better, maybe Junhui could stop coming home with bruises.

“Checkpoint, Gyu,” Junhui whispers, and Hansol immediately lifts his head. Junhui doesn’t sound scared, not as much as Hansol feels after hearing that word, at least. There is fear, but his tone is serious in a way Hansol’s never heard before.

Mingyu pulls his hand from Junhui, succeeding only after he squeezes Junhui’s hand once more, and says, “Give me the fake ID.” Then he looks over his shoulder and says, “There’s a blanket in the back with you, Hansol. I need you to lay down, spread it over you, and keep quiet, okay?”

Hansol scrambles mentally, feeling strangely disoriented, but Mingyu’s sharp words - “Hansol, do you understand?” - snap him back.

“Yeah. Yeah, I got it.” It’s one of their heavy wool blankets that they saved up for, all lumpy, soft, and warm, and as soon as Hansol settles with it over him, he can already feel stifling heat building under the cover. A hand pats down his legs, shifts the blanket a little, and then it disappears as the car slows down and Hansol hears the window lowering.

“Bit late for getting on the highway, isn’t it?” a voice asks, and Hansol fights every muscle in his body to not fidget and just stay still.

“I have an early business meeting, and I confess I’m not a fan of flying,” Mingyu says, tacking on a short, fake, hollow laugh at the end.

The voice matches him, saying, “Who is. Well, everything looks to be in order for you, Mr. Lee. I just have to ask if your friend there has permission to be exiting the city or if he’s accompanying you.”

“Accompanying,” Mingyu quickly says. The voice laughs again, louder this time.

“Of course he is. Try not to get  _ too _ distracted on the road, alright? And have a good evening, sir.”

“I’ll try,” is all Mingyu says as the window rolls up again and the car moves.

A few moments pass where Hansol stays down, quiet and still, just in case, but then the hand is on his leg again, this time curling as Junhui says, “Hansol, you can get up now. We made it.”

What? They made it? They’re out of the city? They’re on the open road? Sitting up, Hansol looks out the back window of the car and sees the checkpoint, sees the skyscrapers, and he sees them all fading as Mingyu no doubt speeds them away as fast as possible.

Turning around, Hansol finds Junhui staring at him, _smiling._ It feels like it’s been years since he last saw Junhui smile. Hansol is glad to see it again, genuinely, but if Junhui’s smiling then that must mean whatever plan he and Mingyu had worked, which means now Hansol should be able to get some answers.

He has a couple, but Hansol figures the most important one is, “Where are we going?”

Junhui opens his mouth but all that comes out is a soft, airy laugh, followed by another, and then another. He can’t seem to bring himself to answer Hansol, so he reaches for Mingyu, gripping his arm, and, still breathless, says, “Tell him, Gyu.”

Hansol slides his gaze to the driver’s seat, and he can see a grin pulling at Mingyu’s lips too when Mingyu angles his head to the side.

Quickly shifting his eyes away from the road, Mingyu looks at Hansol, nothing short of manic excitement plastered across his face, and says, “We’re going to Atlantis.”

**Author's Note:**

> Art exists to be witnessed.
> 
> If you’re so inclined after reading my fic, comments are always appreciated, especially if you have thoughts, feelings, or questions about the story. Regardless of whether it’s long or short, comments let me know that my work was engaged with, which, as a writer, is all I hope for those reading my fic to do.


End file.
